


Fallout

by curiositykilled



Series: Being Frostiron in an Avengers World [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jötunn Loki, Lady Loki, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Memory Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:18:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the best laid plans get blown to bits every now and then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony probably wouldn’t have woken – or even noticed the shift – except that when he moved to pull her closer (because she was asleep and wouldn’t notice and he was half-asleep and willing to risk it), his hand met absolute zero and _burnt._

“Fuck!” he hissed, jerking into full consciousness.

Beside him, Loki – who was currently blue – shifted with a small frown on his – her? Its? – face. Rubbing the palm of his hand, Tony paused to study this form; he’d never seen it before, and in his curiosity and appreciation, the sting was already fading from his hand.

Based on the lean, muscular chest and sharper facial lines, he assumed Loki was male at the moment, though the long black hair was closer to his feminine form. Ignoring the burn from just a moment ago, he crawled closer and reached a finger out to gingerly trace the intricate angles and whorls that were crossing over his back; he figured that part of the cold must have been from surprise, and anyway, he’d pull his hand back before getting frostbite. _Probably._ As his skin met the darker ridges, though, he was startled to realize that they were about the same temperature as Loki’s usual skin – cool, but not enough to stop atoms’ motion.

“Hvað ertu að gera? Hvað - ó _fuck!”_

An icy palm had wrapped tight around his wrist before Loki blinked fully into awareness, and swearing, twisted away from Tony and right off the bed. The shock and not-overly-quiet _holyfuckyes_ that had flooded Tony at the ocean-blue skin and bloodred eyes, took a quick step to the side to make way for the puzzled concern barging through.

“Lokes? You okay?” he asked, crawling hands-and-knees across the bed.

It was a rather rhetorical question, given the rapid, shallow in-and-out of the lean blue chest and the haunted, wide eyes. Thin, long hands were flexing and clenching alternately, panic in every rigid line of Loki’s body; if Tony didn’t already know exactly how his spouse looked in the grip of a panic attack, this would be a pretty damned good example. Lingering on the edge of the bed, Tony attempted to reach his hand out to Loki but retracted it as soon as the thin figure flinched.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, “It’s not like this is the first time you’ve shifted.”

It was true – Tony never really knew if he’d wake up to a husband or a wife (and there was that one time Loki had woken him up as a cat, kneading into his shoulder with wicked green eyes) – but Loki had definitely never shifted into this form (Tony definitely would remember that). Something flickered unbidden in the back of his mind – a memory of when he’d first met Thor – _‘He is adopted?_ ’

“Oh. Shit,” he breathed, half-remembered comments and off-hand remarks fitting together in his patchwork memory, “Shit shit _shit.”_

Loki’s breathing was starting to steady, vermillion eyes narrowed at the cursing. Absently, Tony knew that swearing was probably not the right way to reassure a panicked god, but he wasn’t necessarily known for his eloquence.

“Hv- _what?_ ” Loki snarled, voice a hoarse, strange mix of his male and female forms’, “Disgusted by the truth, now? By the monster you’ve bedded and wed?”

“Wha- what the _fuck,_ Loki?” Tony spat out in surprise.

Had Loki been the one trying to comfort the other, he probably would have had honey-coated responses enough to smooth over all the jagged edges, but in all honesty, Tony had nothing after that comment. ‘ _Monster’? The fuck?_ was as tactful as he was managing. Granted, the Silvertongue didn’t appear to be overly functional as Loki pulled closer into himself and flattened his hands hard against the floor.

“You want to explain or just fucking sit there?” Tony snapped.

He loved Loki, as strange as it had originally seemed to think that, but goddamn if the trickster couldn’t be a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Does it matter?” Loki rejoined, voice hard and defensive.

“I don’t know; waking up to my spouse being in an entirely different form I’ve seen and speaking in what – _fucking Norse?_ – kinda’ threw me for a loop,” his husband retorted.

“Allttala,” Loki corrected sharply, because _of course_ Loki would care about the language of all things.

“Whatever. The hell is going on?” Tony demanded.

No answer was forthcoming as Loki fixed his gaze firmly on the foot of one of the bed’s legs. A few terse moments passed before Tony relented and clambered off the bed to nestle up against Loki. As soon as their fingers intertwined, the blue began to bleed away, chased by ivory skin and the soft curves of Loki’s female form.

“I…I don’t know. Something is…interfering with my seið,” she explained softly, holding herself stiffly away from him save for their interlaced fingers.

“And that’s…your uh – natural? – form?” he asked.

Loki stilled for a moment before breathing, her body rigid.

“…yes. I am Jotunn,” she answered softly, disgust creeping like thick black eels through her voice.

“Um…’jotunn’?” Tony prompted.

“ĺs risastór – _fuck,_ ” she swore under her breath, “I believe Doom has been testing how to…incapacitate seið. There are too many words I know only in the Allttala.”

“But swearing stays English?” he queried curiously.

She smiled a slightly softer smirk than her usual razor-blade grin.

“Okay, so – uh – what do we do?” Tony asked, leaning slightly on her shoulder.

A shrug.

“Doom’s work has never been successful for very long. I imagine you’ll be getting a call soon, and until then, I will avoid explaining anything of relation to Ásgarður,” she answered, a soft huff of exasperation at the language-switch, “I don’t imagine much of that to be too difficult.”

Tony grinned and leaned over to kiss her much more chastely than usual.

“Y’know, blue’s a good color for you,” he murmured against her lips.

\- - -

She’d just dropped into bed when the phone started buzzing off her nightstand. She hated these stupid solo missions, when SHIELD sent her off without Clint (some whispered warning crawled down the base of her spine – a memory she couldn’t remember no matter how hard she fought for it of something bad happening to him – ‘ _compromised’_ lingered in her ears), and despite Natasha’s nearly-immovable façade of patience, she smacked her arm across the bed to grab her phone roughly.

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s Loki. He’s escaped – I don’t know how, but he fucked with all of us. Shit, Tasha, _we all forgot him,_ ” Clint nearly yelled, words rushing headfirst into each other.

And suddenly, blue gems and manic eyes and 'compromised' all made a terrifying world of sense.


	2. Chapter 2

                They all remembered in their own ways – Clint by the return of his nightmares, Natasha by Clint’s panicked call, Steve by a comment on Germany and Bruce by a half-remembered glimpse through the Other Guy’s eyes – but in the end, they came to the same conclusion; Loki was up to something big and they had to stop it. After that, it seemed simple, familiar; Bruce used data they’d gathered on Loki while he was in the helicarrier to form a tracking method until they were, once again, gathered around Stark Tower.

                “What the hell is he doing?” Clint muttered through the comm, grunting as he pushed himself off a wall.

                He’d elected to join Natasha in entering through the vents, while Bruce gave them quiet directions. He and Steve were on a terse, awkward elevator ride up to Tony’s penthouse broken only by Steve’s repeated attempts to call Tony and Bruce’s occasional murmur as he studied the unmoving green dot on his tablet. With the Chitauri, Loki had always seemed to be one step ahead of them; it didn’t make sense that he wouldn’t know they were on to him now. Sick worry clenched around Bruce’s gut at the thought of once again being the Trickster’s weapon of destruction.

                “Steve, have you gotten ahold of Tony yet?” Natasha asked, ignoring Clint’s comment for the moment.

                “No,” Steve admitted, biting back frustration, “Pepper said he was at some sort of conference in France, but he should have his damned phone on.”

                Grimacing faintly in unseen sympathy, Natasha swung herself down through the last vent to land lightly on the floor. Tony never bothered to shut off his phone when SHIELD was hosting an important debriefing, but of course, he’d be polite the one time they absolutely had to get ahold of him.

                “And Thor?”

                “Jane was trying to get ahold of him, but I’m really not sure what that means other than yelling at the sky,” Bruce answered apologetically.

                Even in the face of their current crisis, Clint couldn’t bite back a grin at the thought of mild-mannered Jane Foster running around the New Mexico desert, screaming for Thor. If Puente Antiguo didn’t already think their resident astrophysicist a little nutty, they sure would then.

                “We’re at the door; do y-” Natasha started, only to be cut off by the _ping!_ of the elevator.

                “Right behind you,” Steve replied, stepping out with Bruce shuffling behind.

                “So,” Bruce started once they’d all stood staring at the door for a minute or so.

                Somehow, it was all wrong to just break into their friends’ home; both Tony and his wife had always protected their penthouse as a sort of private sanctuary, and they all knew how well the duo would probably take having their haven destroyed. After all, catching Loki was unlikely to leave it in existence – much less unscathed.

                “We have to do it,” Natasha reminded them softly.

                “Right. Let’s get this fucker,” Clint agreed, stepping back to let Steve break down the door.

                In the middle of reading the original _Les Miserables_ and ignoring the uncomfortable shifting in her lower abdomen, Loki turned wide, startled green eyes towards the door as two thirds of the Avengers froze over her toppled door. Bruce stared for a moment before turning his gaze back to his tablet in a slow-motion doubletake, and Steve opened his mouth to apologize, only for his words to vanish.            There was only one green dot and four red on the tablet’s screen. Unless Tony’s wife had suddenly begun giving off magical energy signals…

                “ _Loki?”_ Clint finally demanded uncertainly.

                Sighing softly, the god laid her book down on the counter and unfolded herself from the cross-legged position she’d taken on the barstool.

                “I imagine you’re to cart me off to SHIELD, yes?” she prompted, arms loose by her sides.

                She was in the mood for a fight, but not with the Avengers. So long as Bruce was there, it was a fight she could not win – not that she would actually vent her spleen fully against her own friends. She wasn’t really sure who she would let herself beat to a pulp at the moment – _perhaps Heimdall, were he feeling less noble…_

                “Y- _you’re_ Loki?” Steve breathed, “But – you’re our _friend._ ”

                “I’ve lived among you for a mere decade after nearly destroying your home,” she scoffed, “I hardly think that makes us ‘friends,’ Captain Rogers.”

                He flinched slightly as if slapped, and his jaw tightened. Natasha – and Bruce, perhaps – could see through Loki’s ploy, but the other two were too far out of their water to catch the trap now. _Ah, well._ Loki mused silently in the space between the Avengers’ words, _it had to end eventually. Now’s as good a time as any, I imagine._

                Clint’s teeth gritted at Loki’s cool snap, and his grip tightened. _Fuck her. This is Loki._ He reminded himself tersely of the entire Chitauri invasion, willing himself to feel more hatred than betrayal. It was futile at best.

                “Hold out your hands,” Natasha ordered coolly, taking charge of the situation with all the professional ice of the Black Widow.

                Doing so, Loki clamped down hard on a flush of panicked memories of _burningicemetalpainwherearemyhandsgonegon- No._ and forced herself to maintain a bored expression as the cool metal clamped down around her wrists and pushed weakly against her seidr. The suppressants in the manacles were far too weak to offer much resistance, now; only his absolutely drained state had allowed them to contain Loki at all those many years ago. Tilting her head back, Loki swished her long hair from her shoulders, absently wishing she had pulled it off her back before now; it was sure to be a long day, and without use of her hands, she would soon get sick of her locks.

                "JARVIS?" she queried abruptly as Natasha gripped her elbow and gently guided her to the door.

                "Panic Protocol in effect," the AI reassured.

                "Lovely," Loki smiled faintly, letting herself be taken.

                The Avengers hesitated, as if waiting for Loki to make some move in attack or pleading, but they were unrewarded. Loki strode loosely with a razor smirk on her lips and devil-may-care in her eyes. The trip to SHIELD was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vljdfhlak. I just want everyone to know how damn painful it is to refer to someone only as someone else's wife. Bllleeech. And I realize this chapter is really choppy/blech; I just wanted to get it written so that I could write the next one. Also, I keep forgetting to update here, so~


	3. Chapter 3

                Humming along to the randomized playlist JARVIS was streaming through the R8’s stereo – currently, it was ‘Mama, I’m Coming Home’ – Tony couldn’t feel more on top of the world. His presentation, as always, had swept the crowd away, and he’d been able to refuse the young women who approached him by admitting his wife was arriving later that day. Loki had been planning to simply teleport in the day before (undoubtedly, so she could shift into some old, bothersome scientist to point out all the flaws in his inventions in front of everyone), but she’d ended up calling him and promising to show up this evening.

                “Hey, J I-” Tony started only to be cut off as the screen by his steering wheel turned an alarming shade of vermillion.

                “Panic Protocol in effect,” JARVIS announced stiffly, and Tony just barely missed a tree as he slammed on the brakes.

                “What? JARVIS, where’s Loki?” he demanded sharply.

                “Loki has been taken into custody by the Black Widow, Hawkeye, Captain America and Dr. Bruce Banner,” the AI responded.

                “Is sh-”

                “Ms. Stark is unharmed,” JARVIS reassured.

                Letting out a huff of relieved air, the billionaire leaned back into his seat, the heels of his hands pressing into his forehead just above his eyebrows. He and Loki had planned for the off chance that the rest of the team found out about her, but he’d never really thought they’d have to worry. She had, after all, wiped two entire realms’ memories; that five measly superheroes could shake that off seemed a laughable possibility.

                “Connect to Rhodey,” Tony ordered, reaching across to open the glovebox.

                A slim metal case contained his bracelets, and clicking those tight on his wrists, he drummed impatiently on the steering wheel as Rhodey’s phone rang. His suit was already flying into view.

                “-ony, what the hell is go-” his friend demanded as soon as the call connected.

                “Look, you need to get to France. I’m putting the GPS on in the Audi, and the hotel’s got all the tech. She better be fine when I get there, Rhodey,” Tony warned as the faceplate snapped into place.

                His mother had once told Tony, in a rare fit of parenting, that swearing was for the unintelligent and uneducated. While he’d spent the remainder of that week swearing flippantly at any and everything, Tony understood the sentiment as his thrusters kicked in and propelled him rapidly towards the sun drenched sky. Rhodey wouldn’t be held personally responsible if anything happened to Loki while Tony was away, but the other Avengers weren’t so lucky.

                “JARVIS, run a full diagnostics on Loki. I don’t care what filters she’s placed on you, tell me the full physical,” he ordered shortly, “I swear, if they even touch her…”

                There was a quiet lull as JARVIS removed the blocks and filters Loki had written into his code (she had once commented that JARVIS was very much akin to a more pleasant Heimdall, and she’d never really cared for an all-seeing anything) before he began his scan. Loki’s wedding ring, as well as half the SHIELD bases, had JARVIS integrated into them whether they knew it or not, and from this, the AI managed to get full information on the god’s vitals and condition. When he reported back, Tony hummed in relief at all of the readings flashing across the HUD until hCG popped up and panic set in.

-              -              -

                The base was in an uproar. Thor had arrived shortly after the rest of the Avengers and Loki, and the five members were now crowded into the observation room beyond Loki’s class cage. Steve and Natasha were busy reminding everyone both that Loki had been their good friend for the past ten years and had also nearly destroyed Manhattan and was probably planning another effort at subjugation. Thor was yelling back that Loki had more than made up for his past deeds and should be set free. Clint demanded death as the only rightful punishment, and Bruce watched.

                He’d gotten used to his teammates’ loud squabbles over time and knew to simply sit back and observe. At the moment, he was more intrigued by their silent guest than by the familiar arguments being waged around him. Loki had come far too willingly for anyone’s liking, and she had neither shifted into a more intimidating form or threatened any of them aside from a snide, cutting remark in response to the others’ words.

                Now, sitting with her back against the glass wall, she seemed perfectly content to simply sit. Even as the guise through which he’d gotten to know her, Loki had never been the one to stand still; she was constantly in motion, whether walking or gesturing or making the conversation run like water through a dozen topics in an hour. The unmoving calm she maintained now was unnerving.

                Then, a brief wince flitted across her face and her hand slipped to her belly. It was an absent minded gesture, and she quickly caught herself, shifting the motion into smoothing down the shirt she wore, but Bruce had seen it. Surprise and understanding – _of course,_ that’s _why she didn’t move to piss us off_ – flashed cold through the scientist, and checking to make sure he wouldn’t be noticed, he stood and slipped out of the room.

                “Ah, the beast,” Loki purred when he typed in the passcode to her door.

                He was used to similar comments and too distracted by his epiphany to remark on that.

                “Let’s walk,” Bruce suggested instead, gesturing to the open door.

                Rising in a lazily graceful manner, Loki stepped out and paused to give him a curious look, but the doctor simply continued walking until they’d reached the exit to the roof. He would have preferred one of the many labs, but he figured that natural air would be more soothing to Loki once he broached this subject. It was probably the first place Tony would go once he arrived anyway.

                “How far along are you?” he queried once they’d stood silent for a few moments.

                “Pardon?” Loki replied, face neutrally bemused.

                “How far along are you in your pregnancy?” Bruce clarified, knowing she’d already understood.

                “I’m afraid I don-” Loki chuckled.

                “I had JARVIS send me the same physical Tony called up on his way out of France,” Bruce interrupted, brushing aside the lie.

                The goddess stilled beside him, though the wind seemed to pick up in a melancholy whine. Finally, she released a breath and rubbed the bottom of her wedding band with her thumbtip.

                “Seventeen weeks,” she replied reluctantly.

                “Have you had a checkup?” he asked, guessing the negative.

                Loki laughed shortly.

                “Up until now, I had been weighing whether or not I should even birth the cursed thing,” she snapped.

                It was a rare, harsh moment of honesty, and Bruce had to force the Other Guy to calm at the rough pain in her voice. He wasn’t sure if the Other Guy would go for Loki or for whatever seemed to be hurting her (over the years, ‘Big Green,’ as Tony often called him, had grown particularly fond of his teammate’s beautiful wife), but it didn’t much matter; a Hulk-out next to a pregnant woman, god or no, was a bad idea.

                “You – you’re too far along for an abortion,” he pointed out hesitantly, wary of the answer.

                The mirthless laughter that came from that was short-lived and tired.

                “I can be creative,” she answered darkly.

                Bruce couldn’t help blanching at those words, but any reply he might have made was washed away by the roar of Iron Man slowing to a hover before dropping onto the roof. Before the faceplate even moved, Loki had tensed and her body shifted into a taut, defensive pose. Bruce took another step back. Tension buzzed electric-like through the air as the faceplate slid back to reveal a livid Tony Stark.

                The suit immediately began disassembling itself as Tony stalked forward, his fists clenched tight and face taut with hurt and anger.

                “Can you, now?” he snarled, “And what – did I have no say in whether or not _my fucking kid_ got a chance? It’s not just you, Loki, no matter how much you like to play the fucking lone wolf card. We’re in this together – that’s what we said when you fucking married me.”

                Repeating a silent mantra of Gandhi to himself, Bruce reached into his pocket and pressed the all-call on his phone.

                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay for more awkward chapter endings? Um, so I'm guessing that it was pretty obvious where this was going (yes, this portion of the series is entirely a way segue into (sort of not really) domestic Frostiron and the Avengers), but hopefully it wasn't too beat-your-brains-in-with-the-obviousness. 
> 
> Also, hCG is 'Human chorionic gonadotropin' and is a pretty definite indicator of pregnancy. No clue if Loki would produce that, but maybe? I don't know; I needed something to tell Tony she was pregnant with out being like ''Yo, dude, you knocked yo wife up!"
> 
> ...anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

                “We could have at least _talked_ ab-”

                “-don’t have any inkling what you’re getti-”

                “ Goddamnit, Loki-”

                “This isn’t something you can just _fix_ -”

                Both slender goddess and shorter inventor were yelling, hands making gestures sharp as their voices and words overrunning each other’s. Bruce held his phone gingerly, breathing patiently in and out through his nose on a count of ten.

                “Bruce? Where’s L-” Steve demanded, picking up.

                “Tony knows about Loki – _has_ known. We’re on the roof; they’re arguing,” Bruce interjected brusquely.

                “Thor’s on his way, and I’ll be right up,” Natasha offered, and by the light clatter of metal, she was already on the stairs.

                As she finished speaking, Thor’s broad flame slipped out onto the roof – and who would _ever_ have thought to use _that_ word with regards to the Thunderer? Walking cautiously so as to avoid detection by either of the bickering spouses, he stopped beside Bruce and gave his friend a quick, worried glance. Whether it was in fear of any green appearing in Bruce’s eyes or concern out of what may have already been said, Bruce couldn’t say. Regardless, it was comforting to have the Aesir’s muscular bulk beside him.

                “You haven’t seen this child die a thousand times over!” Loki snapped.

                “And neither have you!” Tony shot back.

                For the barest moment, the god recoiled in confusion. Yes, she had; was he really that daft or had this devolved into some schoolyard bickering match where nonsensical rhetoric was employed? Seizing this hesitation, Tony pressed forward.

                “Look, I know you remember everything. I know you’ve seen your kids die in every life you’ve lived – but you haven’t seen _this_ kid. This one is us – you and me – and maybe we can’t change fate or whatever the hell you call it, but I’m not willing to just throw it in and give up,” he protested, “and if you were, you would have by now.”

                The trickster looked ready to refute that with her stubbornly set jaw and lowered brows, but Thor stepped in with unusual tact.

                “Brother, without Mother’s aid, it would be more dangerous to you than the child,” he reminded cautiously.

                How Thor of all people would know that left Tony and Bruce giving him strange looks, but Loki, after initially tensing further, seemed to relent. Her shoulders softened only a fraction of an inch, but it was enough for Tony to recognize defeat. He wasn’t entirely done with this conversation – _what the hell was she thinking? This was not fucking -_ but they could wait until they were standing somewhere other than the top of a SHIELD base.

                “So,” Natasha started once it had fallen silent for too long, “were you ever going to tell us that you married our number one enemy?”

                 Tony sighed, having expected but not much prepared for this confrontation. He’d always hoped that, if they really had to come to this, the team would be too much won over by Loki’s charm from the past decade to care much about before.

                “No,” he answered with an honest, tired shrug.

                “I have no want of your realm save for Tony,” Loki asserted, adding harshly, “and even that I doubt.”

                Tony stiffened, forcefully reminding himself that this was Loki, and much as he loved his wife, she had a certain habit of pissing people off when she really would be better off not.

                “As I said,” Thor agreed, a small hint of triumph in his tone, “my brother has done no harm to Earth for which he has not already atoned.”

                It was a curious thing, Bruce noted, that both Asgardians slid back into more formal, flowery speech when stressed. He wondered if either realized it.

                “Unless she helped Tony with any of his tech,” Natasha muttered too low for anyone but Bruce to hear.

                Or, at least, it seemed that way till both Asgardians’ lips twitched towards amused smiles. Loki’s was quickly stifled, but the red head silently cursed herself for forgetting their hypersensitive hearing. As Fury’s voice opened on her comm, though, she didn’t mind too much. It was a relief to not have to repeat what her director was yelling into her ear.

                “The hell was Stark thinking? If that son of a bitch doesn’t bring his crazy wife down here right this instant, I will let the DOD take his fucking suits. We cannot have another agent going rogue, Romanoff. Get the idiots down here right fucking now-”

                He went on for a few moments longer, but Loki’s expression had turned murderous, and Natasha turned the comm off. She might not always love Fury, but she didn’t really want anyone to feel Loki’s wrath; she had a feeling that it would leave more than the director damaged. Turning to the stony-faced lovers, she hesitated only briefly. She had faced down more terrifying opponents than she cared to recount, from her time in the Red Room up through two weeks ago, but she had never thought she’d be facing down one and not be sure whether they were a teammate or an enemy.

                “We should probably get down there,” Bruce suggested, “We don’t want to give him any more time to stew.”

                The team headed down first, giving the husband and wife a moment on their own. They knew, illogically, that Tony wouldn’t be skipping out on this debriefing – even if, for once, they could entirely excuse him – and some part of them suggested that, even if he hadn’t abruptly realized he was married to the God of Lies, this was as much of a shock and betrayal to Tony as it was to them.

                “Lokes?” Tony asked softly.

                Her profile was the only part of her face visible to him, but, not for the first time, it showed enough to make him wonder how Loki’d ever become so adept at masking her emotions. The muscles working along her jaw were delicate and subtle in their movement, but the painful neutrality elsewhere on her face was not.

                “I won’t let anything happen to you, you know?” he promised.

                It was futile, pointless – he was no god, and even they did not control their lives – but it was enough to cause the corner of Loki’s lips to twitch with a wry smile. Turning slightly, she let that fall into a familiar, tired smile.

                “I know,” she agreed, and this time, it was she who reached for his hand.

               

                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's done. This and 'The Little Things Give You Away' are kind of the two big chunks of this series (oh yes, four chapters. Big.) while I'll mostly fill in with little drabbles and scribbles of ideas I have. I just needed a couple "foundation" pieces to give a little background info for later additions. Hope you liked it!
> 
> As always, your opinions are greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> What? Is there an underlying plot in this series? Pfft, nooo. Don't be fooled.
> 
> Also, apologies for the language. I am an unfortunate monolingual person, and since there doesn't appear to be an 'English to Alltongue' translator anywhere (shocking, that), I went with a couple sites' suggestion as Icelandic being the closest to old Norse. If something makes no sense, let me know: I did just use a free translator.


End file.
